


As I Was Going Up The Stair

by DanaFox1013



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Case Fic, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-09 06:17:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3239393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanaFox1013/pseuds/DanaFox1013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder and Scully investigate the disappearance of a young woman from her apartment complex. They soon discover that the mysterious new landlord, and recent sightings of children in Victorian clothing around the building, may be connected to the case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT: This fic is a re-telling of a story from an old British sci-fi series that aired in the 1970s: Sapphire and Steel. That show was my first real love and I wanted to give one of its wonderful tales new life by bringing it into the X-Files universe. While details have been altered, the timeline switched around, and character details added in, the basic plot and much of the dialogue has been lifted from the original and as such I do not take credit for it. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this retelling and check out the original if you do, it's well worth your time!

Scully sat in the passenger seat of the rental car and watched a group of children playing hopscotch in a courtyard across the street from the motel. A little girl was among the group. It was nearly six month since Scully had come to learn of her daughter Emily's existence, and nearly the same amount of time since she had been forced to say her final goodbyes. The pain was less now, time beginning to dull the ache, but the sound of children laughing and playing happily was still one of her worst triggers.

A memory popped up in Scully's head and she allowed herself to explore it. She remembered being a small child herself and her mother dressing her in a rag doll costume for a Christmas play, along with her best friend. Her mom still had a few photos from that day. Scully smiled wistfully and thought that she might ask her mom for them. She could have one copied to make a Christmas card for Mulder. The man deserved a laugh. They both did.

Her thoughts returned to the present and she looked back to the small courtyard. All the children had gone. She sighed and looked toward the motel's office only to jump out of her seat. Mulder was staring in through the passenger window & dangling a room key in her face.

"Jeez Mulder," she hissed, opening the car door and stepping out into the cool afternoon air. Mulder just grinned in return & handed over her key. She flipped over the circular tag to check the number. 113 was only a few yards away. Mulder was already opening the trunk to remove their bags. She stepped over and took her own, heading for their rooms.

"Remind me why we're here," she called to him as he followed a few steps behind her.

"Missing persons case," he informed her. They reached their doors in perfect unison. Scully unlocked hers and stepped inside, immediately opening the connecting door to Mulder's so that he could continue. “Ruth Bradbury, local girl. She’s a dancer at a nightclub down the street.”

"The local PD can't handle this by themselves?" Scully asked, dumping her bag onto the bed.

"They've asked for a consult with the Bureau, hit a brick wall in the investigation. It’s been several months since she was reported missing."

"OK that I can follow. What I don't get is your interest. What makes this an X-File?"

Mulder looked over.

"There have been reports of strange children seen in and around the building. Children no one recognises or can account for, all of them dressed in outdated clothing. Whenever the police go to investigate they're nowhere to be found. I have several cases that document similar..."

"Children?" Scully cut in.

"Yeah." Mulder furrowed his brow at her. "What is it Scully?"

"While I was waiting for you in the car, there were children playing in a courtyard across the street. I thought they were dressed strangely but I didn’t really think anything of it."

Mulder frowned and pulled a crumpled map from his pocket. He walked over to Scully as he unfolded it and held it out so they both could see. His finger found their motel and slid over to the building across from them.

"The building across the street is where Ruth’s apartment is located," he told her.

"I thought it was an abandoned store."

"It is. She rents the apartment above."

"Does she live alone?"

"No, there's a roommate: Elizabeth Owen. She made the initial call to report her friend missing. I've already called ahead to arrange to speak with her." Scully smiled at him. “We’ve got a little over an hour before we’re scheduled to meet her. I say we take a look around the building.”

“How?”

“Liz left us a key at the motel reception, I picked it up when I checked us in.”

“You really do think of everything don’t you Mulder?”

He chuckled.

“Come on Scully,” he said, leading her out of the room.

 

~*~*~*~

 

The two of them crossed the street and stood looking up at the derelict store. The windows were all boarded up and the door looked as if it were barely staying upright. Scully wasn’t sure they even needed a key to get inside. She figured if she so much as breathed heavily by it then it would simply fall inward. The door however surprised her by putting up more of a fight than she guessed it would. Mulder had to wrestle with the key which didn’t want to turn in the lock. Eventually with a shove and a grunt he managed to turn it and the door swung open. He tried the light switch and found that it worked. A pair of ancient electric bulbs flickered to life and slightly illuminated a room filled with lines of crowded shelves.

Once they were both through the door, Mulder secured it behind them and they took a first look around. The shop was dark. Nearly all the natural light from outside was obscured by the window boards, and the light from the two bulbs that hung from the ceiling was weakened by a thick coating of dust that gave off a musty smell as the heat slowly burned it away.

“What is this place?” Scully asked as her eyes adjusted to the faint light.

“I’d guess it’s a cross between a secondhand bargain shop and a pawnbrokers.” Mulder replied, “depressing isn't it?”

“Yeah,” Scully agreed as she kicked at the dusty carpet with the toe of her shoe. Mulder stepped forward and began looking through the items on the nearest shelf so she turned to do the same to another, picking up a metal kaleidoscope and looking through it to watch the patterns turn.

“Nothing here but the belongings of the poor, the hopeless, and the dead,” Mulder said from somewhere behind her.

Scully pulled a face and turned to ask him where the morbid comment had come from, only to find him wearing an ancient, dusty, floral bonnet.

“Whaddya think Scully? Does it suit me?” he asked. She stifled a laugh.

“I think we should be concentrating more on looking for evidence than trying it on,” she giggled. Mulder pouted and removed the bonnet, setting it back down on a shelf where it kicked up a cloud of dust and made him cough. The two of them split up, each slowly moving down the aisles and investigating some of the items on the shelves. There was no order or logic to their placement, it was just the junk of a thousands different lives thrown together in one room.

“People lose these things?” Mulder called, holding out a birdcage for Scully to see. She shrugged and went back to investigating a pile of moth-eaten baby clothes.

As she looked through the vests, Scully heard a noise and felt the sensation of being watched. She spun around to see a child’s face watching from between two vases on the shelf immediately behind her. As soon as she was spotted, the girl dropped down out of sight. Scully mimicked the action and came face to face with her again, this time over a stack of books.

_“See saw sacra-down, which is the way to London town?”_ the girl’s voice whispered in a sing-song, as if she were singing a nursery rhyme. Once more she moved, this time shifting left and again vanishing from view. Scully stood up and ran to the end of the aisle in the same direction the girl had gone. The next aisle was empty. She began walking along the ends of the aisles, looking down each one and finding them all empty.

_“See saw sacra-down, which is the way to London town?”_ she heard the voice whispering at the opposite end of the aisle she was stood at. She took off toward it but halted halfway down when the voice began singing again, this time from the end she had just run from.  _“One foot up and the other foot down, this is the way to London Town!”_

“Mulder?!” she called out. He appeared at the opposite end of the shop, gun already drawn simply from the tone of her voice. “Move to the door,” she told him. He frowned but moved there anyway. “There’s a child in here, I just saw her,” Scully called as she moved to the opposite door which led into the rest of the building. They both looked around the room which now appeared utterly motionless.

“She can’t have left through this door,” Mulder called back, “I could see it the whole time, and all the windows are sealed. She must still be in here.”

"Hello?" Scully called into the room, "my name is Special Agent Dana Scully, I'm a Federal Agent. Show yourself." The room remained silent. Scully cleared her throat and tried again. "We know you're in here. We don't want to hurt you, or to scare you. We're here to investigate a crime. Can you help us?" There was still no reply.

“Stay there and watch the doors, I’ll try and draw her out,” Scully said, stalking off along the ends of the aisles. Each one was empty. She frowned and moved to the back of the shop. A number of clothing racks were located along the back and Scully guessed that the girl was hiding amongst them.

She moved very slowly and quietly, keeping her eyes down and looking for a telltale pair of feet below the hemlines. In the back was a darkened corner filled with bags, belts, umbrellas and other accessories. Scully shimmied into the narrow gap, half crouched to look beneath the clothing but still she could see nothing. Then, she caught a glimpse of something, a vague movement in the darkness. She stared at the spot and the darkness solidified into the shape of a small child, peering back at her through the black.

“I think I’ve found her, watch the door,” she called to Mulder as she took a few cautious steps forward into the darkness. She was about to speak to the girl when a rustling sound immediately behind her made Scully freeze. She gripped her gun and spun, only to be knocked backwards. At least 50 of the umbrellas were pointed towards her, swinging viciously through the air and stabbing at her with their sharp,pointed metal tips. She cried out in pain as the sharp stretchers whipped against her exposed skin, her hands flying upwards to shield her face.

“Scully?!”

She could hear Mulder calling out and the sound of his running footsteps. Keeping one hand over her face she reached out and got hold of an umbrella handle, arcing it in front of her to try and knock the spikes away. Then everything froze. The umbrellas became perfectly still and she found herself completely paralysed.


	2. Chapter 2

Although she was paralysed, Scully could still see Mulder. He was halfway across the room from her and she could see that he too was completely frozen. He appeared to be in mid-run clearly rushing toward her, but being frozen in place wasn’t the only thing wrong with him. Not only was he perfectly still, it looked as if the colour had been bleached from him and his surroundings. He wasn’t monochromatic, instead he appeared almost sepia toned. Scully stared at the inanimate scene before her and found herself reminded of the vintage style portraits families often had taken in theme parks, complete with old Western or Colonial era clothing. They stayed there, frozen, for several minutes and then the world suddenly snapped back to normality. The umbrellas all dropped back to hang limply from their hooks and Mulder was running toward her again. He pulled up short just a few feet away.

“What was that?!” he asked, the excitement obvious across his features.

“I don’t know,” Scully replied a little shakily as she ran her fingers across her face, feeling for injury. Mulder frowned and quickly examined her, sweeping her hair away from her face with his thumbs and checking her reflexes with his fingers. Scully returned the actions even though she had been able to see Mulder the whole time they were stuck. It only took them a few seconds to determine that they both seemed to be fine.

“I saw you!” Mulder started babbling, “I saw you from where I stood. I couldn’t move but I could see you. It was as if you were part of an old fashioned photograph!”

“You were the same,” Scully nodded, she felt her composure sliding back together but she was aware of her limbs twitching and flexing, almost as if they were trying to prove to themselves that they could.

“Did you see the child?” Mulder asked, stepping past her to investigate the umbrellas up close.

“Yeah,” Scully agreed distractedly.

“And? What did she look like? Was she real?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, I suppose,” Scully sighed,” I suppose it looked as if she was from a photograph. Her hairstyle, her clothes, even something about the colour of the light when it reflected off of her. Everything made it look as if she was part of an old photograph.”

“Except that she was three dimensional,” Mulder said, turning back to her with the excitable grin Scully had learned to dread, “and for a short time, we weren’t!”

“Hmm,” Scully mumbled, unwilling to commit to anything more. Mulder had found a stack of old picture frames and was flipping through them.

“Photographs,” he said to himself, as if committing the word and everything associated with it to his mind, “old photographs.” He put the pictures back on the shelf. “Let’s look upstairs.”

Scully agreed. For some reason she really wanted to get out of the shop. Anything to do with children hit a raw nerve lately and this case was already starting to bother her, not that she could tell Mulder. They made their way to the door that led into the hallway and began walking up the first flight of stairs. From outside, Scully heard giggling. She peered out of the window she was passing.

“Mulder. Look.”

Mulder trotted back down and joined her. Down in the courtyard was the group of children she had seen earlier. They were all singing another nursery rhyme.

“Do you see them?”

“Yes,” he breathed. He was about to run down again when two of the children looked up and spotted them watching. All the children looked at them, then they moved into the shadows and vanished from view.

“Where’d they go?” Scully asked.

“I don’t know!” Mulder replied, his voice even more excited than it had been downstairs. “Come on Scully, I wanna look around some more.”

They reached the first floor landing and Mulder withdrew the keys he had used to get inside the building. He started flicking through them until he found one that matched.

“Is this our victim’s apartment?” Scully asked.

“No, this is the landlord’s place, the lovely Liz has a copy of his key for emergencies. I just want to take a look around.”

“Isn’t that trespassing?”

“I prefer to call it investigating,” Mulder replied with a wink just as he finally got the door open. “Hello?” he called. The room remained silent. Scully began walking slowly around the perimeter looking for anything unusual. She ran her finger along a shelf and noticed that it left behind a trail through thick dust. She wrinkled her nose and checked some of the other surfaces, all of them were equally covered. Scully didn’t count herself as especially houseproud, her job didn’t allow her to be, but she did at least make some effort to keep the dust bunnies in her apartment from breeding too enthusiastically. She briefly imagined her mother walking into the the room and found a smile building on her lips; the woman would have a coronary at the state of this place. It made Mulder’s bachelor pad look positively immaculate.

Mulder had crossed to a nearby dresser and begun pawing through the belongings that sat on the shelves.

“Somebody’s not too bothered about opening their mail,” he commented, holding up a stack of unopened envelopes, “Mr H Williamson. H Williamson Esq. H Williamson...”

“How far back do they go?”

“Several months.” He put the envelopes down and disappeared into the kitchen where he began opening cupboards and looking inside the small fridge. “There’s no food in here Scully, no provisions.”

“Mulder?”

He turned to face her. Scully was standing in the middle of the living area and pointing to the sofa. It had clearly been made up to sleep on, blankets and pillows were strewn haphazardly across it as if they had been recently kicked away. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“So he sleeps here, but he doesn’t eat or read his mail,” Mulder mused aloud.

“Or clean,” Scully added, running a finger down a lampshade and holding it out so Mulder could see. He looked mildly disgusted and furrowed his brow, clearly trying to slot the pieces into place. He walked past Scully to the bookcase behind her where he began pulling books from the shelves.

“He might not open his mail but he does seem to like books."

Scully joined him and pulled a random title off a shelf for herself.

“Photography,” she said, replacing it and taking another, “this one too. Mulder nearly all of these are about photography.”

“Hmmm,” Mulder hummed, too engrossed in whatever he had discovered to acknowledge her. Scully replaced the book and turned to scan the room again. A curtain hanging across part of the wall caught her interest so she crossed to see what was behind it. Pulling it back she found a wooden door. Mulder was still reading so she located a hook for the curtain, secured it, and tried the door. It swung open to reveal a pitch black room with no windows. Scully reached around and felt on the wall for the switch. She flicked the light on and the room before her was illuminated.

“He does more than just read about it,” she said.

Mulder turned and Scully watched with amusement as both his eyebrows shot up. He quickly returned the book to its shelf and came to join her in the small but well kitted out darkroom she had discovered. Together, and without discussion, they began systematically checking the room. Every surface was littered with old frames containing old photographs. Most were of children although a few appeared to show empty urban scenes.

“When someone makes a hobby out of photography, doesn’t that usually mean they take new photographs?” Mulder asked.

“Usually yes,” Scully agreed.

“Why aren’t there any new photographs in here?” he asked, “can you see any?”

Scully looked around the room. Now Mulder had mentioned it, she realised that he was right. There wasn’t a single photograph in the room that looked less than seventy or eighty years old.

“No,” she agreed. She picked up the nearest photograph, one of a water fountain on a vacant street, and looked at it closely.

“Mulder?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s something wrong with this photograph.”

“Wrong? Wrong how?” Mulder asked as he stepped closely beside her to look at it.

“The balance is wrong.”

“The what?”

Scully looked sheepish.

“When I was in high school I joined the photography club. One of the first things we learned was composition: the rule of thirds.” She drew lines with her finger on the dusty glass that covered the photograph; the four lines divided the picture into thirds both horizontally and vertically. “Placing things on the intersections makes the image more dynamic,” she explained, “but in this photograph the intersections are empty.” She paused and tried to think how best to explain what was wrong to Mulder. “But it’s as if they shouldn’t be. The photograph has been composed in such a way that it feels like something should be there.”

“So whose fault is that,” Mulder asked, “the original photographer?”

“I don’t think so, no one would normally choose to frame a scene like this.”

Mulder looked again at the image. Scully was right, the whole thing seemed out of balance somehow.

“You mean there’s something missing now that was there before?”

“Yes.”

“So it’s been faked then? Worked on.”

“No, the background is perfectly intact and so is the ground. No one could fake anything that perfectly. The technology just doesn't exist.”

Mulder looked at the photograph once more. It showed a brick wall on an empty urban street, the water fountain took up most of the right hand side of the image.

“Scully, do you think, the thing that’s missing, could it have been a child?”

Scully frowned.

“Yes, I suppose that would make sense. A child drinking from that fountain would be stood right where I’d expect something to be.” Mulder nodded and headed back to look at the equipment.

“Children,” he muttered, “children taken from photographs. Or lost. Or stolen.”

“Mulder?”

“The child downstairs,” he answered, turning back to face her. “You said she looked like part of an old photograph.”

“Well yes but…” Mulder was already out of the door so Scully chased after him, “Mulder I didn’t mean literally! I meant like a costume. Mulder you know you can’t just steal people out of photographs? That’s impossible.”

“Think about it Scully!” Mulder said, wheeling around on the spot to face her. His face had that manic expression he got whenever an idea had taken root. She unconsciously braced herself. “There’s an old belief that photography could steal your soul. What if part of that is true? That part of a person’s energy could somehow become trapped within a photograph of themselves and then, with the right technology, you could use the photograph to bring them back?”

“Mulder that’s ridiculous! And even if it were true, how could it have anything to do with someone going missing?”

“I’m not sure yet!”

A bang sounded from upstairs.

“What was that?” Scully asked warily.

“I think Liz is home, let’s go pay her a visit,” Mulder said. Scully watched as he practically skipped out of the apartment. She sighed and followed him.


	3. Chapter 3

Mulder knocked on the single apartment door on the top floor of the building. A young girl whom Scully estimated to be in her early twenties opened the door after a few seconds. She was young, pale skinned, and had brown hair cropped close into an untidy pixie cut.

“Liz McCallum?" Mulder asked. The girl nodded so Mulder and Scully both withdrew their badges. “I’m Special Agent Fox Mulder, we spoke on the phone, this is my partner, Agent Dana Scully.”

“Yes, of course, come in,” Liz smiled. Scully noticed that the girl seemed nervous and on edge. She couldn’t say she blamed her. Scully remembered all too well living in her first ever apartment. It hadn’t been too dissimilar to the one she was currently standing in and was in an equally run down part of the city. If her roommate had gone missing, she’d have been on edge too.

Scully closed the door behind her as she entered the room and did a rapid mental inventory of surroundings. The room was fairly typical for a young woman’s apartment. Piles of laundry lay scattered across chairs and on top of the formica table in the corner. A large, traditional dressing table was positioned against the opposite wall, dominating the room. It had a hinged mirror divided into three panels and was covered in jewelry and makeup. Nothing was organised or tidy. It reminded Scully of her own room during med school finals when she had barely found time to grab two hours sleep and inhale cups of strong coffee let alone clean.

Liz led them to a moth-eaten couch and offered drinks which they both declined. She perched nervously on the arm of a matching chair after moving a pile of papers from it and began unconsciously picking at the hem of her shorts.

“You originally reported your roommate Ruth missing three months ago, is that correct?” Mulder began.

“Yeah that’s right,” Liz nodded.

“Can you tell me how you knew she was missing?”

“Well one day, she just didn’t come home from work. Never took any of her stuff, just, vanished. I called her mom, her sister, no one ever heard from her. I’ve tried calling her cell but it just goes straight to voicemail. I must have left her a dozen messages, but I’ve heard nothing back.”

“That’s not usual behaviour for her?” Scully asked, “she’s never done anything like this before?”

“No! No not at all. Ruth didn’t go out much. Quiet girl, very shy. ‘Cept when she was on stage o‘course, then she was a sight! Drove the guys wild every night,” she laughed.

“Did she drink? Do drugs?”

“No, nothing like that. She was saving her money so she could try to become a lawyer.”

“Was there a boyfriend?” Mulder asked.

“No. Never. No girlfriend either before you ask. All she ever did was dance at the club and go to school in the day. She was pre-law, studying English at the community college in town.”

Mulder flipped the page in the file he held.

“You said there were only three people living in the building at the time of her disappearance. Yourself, Ruth, and a Mr. H Williamson.”

“Yeah,” Ruth nodded.

“And Mr. Williamson is the landlord, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s he like?”

“Kept himself to himself mostly. Just got on with his life, he liked to talk though. Real friendly.”

“He owns the shop downstairs?” Scully asked

“He owns the whole building. Well he did anyway.”

“Did? What happened?”

“He left.”

Mulder and Scully gave one another a look.

“When?” Mulder asked.

“Oh, several months ago. I assumed he sold up or something. Left all his furniture here, all his photographic gear, all his stock.”

“So who owns the building now?” Scully pressed.

“New guy, came along immediately after Mr. Williamson left. Said he’d bought the place from him.”

“And what’s he like?”

“Oh he’s great. Never bothers me anyway. Most of the time he doesn’t even remember to ask for the rent so I just leave it on the top of the stairs when I remember.”

“Do you know what he does for a living?”

“No, never seen him around much to ask. He’s always talking bout his kids though. Must have hundreds of them from the way he speaks.”

Mulder and Scully exchanged another significant glance.

“I assume the shop isn’t open anymore?” Mulder continued.

“Not since Mr. Williamson left, no.”

“So the new landlord appears to earn his living from a shop that’s never open? Doesn’t that strike you as strange?”

“Well I suppose so,” Liz answered thoughtfully, “I’d just assumed he was planning to get some work done on the place. You know, get rid of the ghosts?”

“Ghosts?” Mulder repeated. Liz laughed.

“Oh you know, the children. I’ve caught glimpses of them now and again. You probably saw them around when you got here.”

Mulder went silent for a moment and flipped through his file again.

“This new landlord?” he said suddenly, “describe him.”

Liz frowned at them.

“Well he’s…” she paused then laughed nervously. “That’s weird.”

“What is?” Mulder asked.

“Well, I’ve known him a few months, talked to him plenty of times but… That’s crazy!”

“What?”

“I don’t know what he looks like!” She laughed again. “That really is crazy. I’ve talked to the guy face to face just like I’m talking to you now, but I can’t remember his face at all. I suppose... well I work in a nightclub and, well I guess you see so many faces in a place like that that you end up not seeing faces at all.”

“That’s OK,” Mulder assured her. He withdrew a few small picture frames from inside his jacket pocket. Scully recognised them as having been in the dark room downstairs. She hadn’t noticed Mulder picking them up. “These were in Mr. Williamson’s darkroom,” he told Liz, “do you recognize them?”

Liz took the frames and looked through them.

“No, Mr. Williamson never bothered with old stuff like this except in the shop. They probably belong to the new guy.”

“Was Mr. Williamson a good photographer?” Scully asked.

Liz’s face lit up.

“Oh yes! He was very clever, very talented. The shop was his living o’course but photography was his hobby, his passion really. Not just taking pictures either but like, I dunno, discovering things he once said. New techniques, stuff like that. But he never bothered with old photos like this. I mean look, this one doesn’t even have anything in it!” She held up the photo of the street that Scully had looked at earlier.

“Do you have somewhere else to stay Liz?” Mulder asked.

“No. Why?”

“I suggest you find somewhere.”

“What?” Liz and Scully asked simultaneously.

“I have to get ready and go to work!” Liz told him indignantly.

“How long for?” he asked.

“All night.”

“Can you pack a bag and stay there?”

“No!”

“Can you stay with a friend?”

“I only had one friend in this city.”

“And she’s missing?” Scully asked kindly.

“Yeah.”

“Same as the landlord who’s disappeared?” Mulder added.

“Well he hasn’t exactly disappeared…”

“Have you seen him at all since he sold up? Did he ever actually tell you he was going? Say goodbye?”

“Well no…”

“And he left around the same time Ruth went missing?”

“Yes but…”

“You didn't find that at all suspicious?”

Liz's face fell.

“Well no, I just... “ She looked between the two of them, “I suppose now you mention it.” A sudden look of horror crossed her face. “You don’t think Mr. Williamson is responsible do you? You don’t think he hurt Ruth?”

“No,” Mulder said gently, “I just think the local police have been hunting one missing person when they should have been looking for two.”

The room fell into silence.

“I, I really need to get ready for work,” Liz said quietly.

“Of course, go ahead,” Scully said with a smile. Liz managed to smile back and crossed to sit at her dressing table. She removed a curly red wig from a drawer and pulled it onto her head before beginning to brush it into place.

“The ghosts?” Mulder said, watching her in the mirror, “the children. Have they always been around?”

“No, they haven’t. Now that you come to mention it.”

“When did they start appearing?”

“Several months ago I think.”

“Around the time Ruth and Mr. Williamson vanished?”

Their eyes met in the mirror.

“Yeah.”

“Mulder can I speak to you? Alone?” Scully asked pointedly. Mulder gave Liz a half smile and got up to follow Scully out of the apartment and into the hallway. He closed the door behind him.

“What’s up Scully?”

“Mulder what the hell was that in there?”

“What?”

“All that stuff about Liz leaving her apartment? And about what the new landlord looks like?”

“I have a theory.”

“And were you planning on sharing it with me?”

“I will Scully, I’m just not sure how it all fits together yet.”

Scully didn't reply. After a moment Mulder turned to her and found that she was staring at a framed photograph on the wall.

“Mulder look at this photo,” Scully said, pointing to it. The picture showed three men all dressed in shop assistants clothes. They appeared to be inside a old store, surrounded on three sides by shelves containing large fabric bolts. One of the men, who appeared slightly older than the others, was leaning forward a little. “This man,” Scully said, pointing to the older man, “the way he’s standing. When you were frozen downstairs for those few minutes in the shop, you were standing in exactly the same way this man is. I mean exactly Mulder, right down to the smallest movement.” Mulder’s brow furrowed. He looked away and began scanning all the other photos on the wall. A moment later Scully heard a sharp intake of breath. He turned back to her and Scully saw he was pointing to a picture of two ladies on a beach. Both of them held parasols.

“You were frozen exactly like her,” he said, pointing to the woman on the left.

“What does that mean?”

“The child,” Mulder said,”the child in the shop. Somehow she did that to us so she could escape. She used the photographs to trap us.”

“But Mulder…”

“It was you who pointed it out Scully. You remember being frozen down there too.”

Scully swallowed.

“Let’s go back to the darkroom, I want to take another look around,” she said. Mulder nodded and they walked together down to the other apartment.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Ten minutes later, Liz stepped out of her apartment to see where the two FBI agents had got to. She was slightly surprised to find the hallway empty. She stepped forward and leaned over the rail to look down the staircase. Glimpsing a figure she was about to call out to them when she realised it was her new landlord down on the ground floor. He was stood in the shadows, standing perfectly still on the bottom step.

“Oh, it’s you!” she said with a slight laugh, “why are you hiding in the shadows?”

“Why should I hide?” he replied without looking up. She shrugged.

“There’s a couple of FBI agents here about Ruth, I think they’re looking for you.”

“I know.”

“Well they’re your problem now.” Liz turned to re-enter her apartment then froze. Shaking her head and silently cursing herself, she turned back to look down the stairs again. “Listen, this is gonna sound weird but, do you think I could see your face?”

“But you’ve seen my face.”

“Well that’s the funny thing you…”

The man at the bottom of the stairs turned to her. Liz could make out vague features but the details were mostly still obscured by the shadows.

“Thanks, but I still can’t see it.”

The man leaned forwards into the light which revealed a perfectly ordinary man with short black hair which was slicked back, a roundish face, and blue eyes. There was nothing out of the ordinary about him at all.

“Oh yeah!” Liz laughed nervously, “I suppose I wasn’t looking properly before.”

“That’s right. You weren’t looking properly,” he said. The tone carried a hint of chastisement.

Liz giggled weakly. She smiled and slunk back inside her apartment to continue getting ready. Of course the man had a face. What kind of a man would he be if he didn’t?


	4. Chapter 4

Downstairs in the darkroom that had once belonged to Mr. H Williamson, Scully had pulled out another huge stack of old, framed photographs. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was searching for as she looked through them but she continued anyway while Mulder rooted through cupboards and upended drawers. One frame caught her attention. It wasn’t so much a frame as a large, flat, hinged box that had clearly been custom built. She fiddled with the hinges on either side and the box opened. Inside one side was a framed picture of a large crowd on a street surrounded by old fashioned buildings. The other side of the frame contained a mirror. She frowned and turned the object over in her hands.

“Mulder, look at this.”

Mulder put down whatever he was investigating and came over to join her.

“I’m not sure what this is for,” she told him, “the mirror and the frame both face inwards so I’m not sure what purpose it would serve.”

Mulder took the object and turned it over in his hands. He flicked at the hinges again and the two sides came apart. He put the mirror side down on the table and the two of them looked closely at the framed photograph.

“How old would you say this photo is Scully?”

Scully furrowed her brow and looked carefully at the women in the street.

“Judging by their clothing I’d say around 100 years.”

“Wouldn’t you say she looks a little out of place then?” Mulder asked, pointing to a girl who was stood in an upstairs window. Scully leant in to take a closer look. The girl was wearing clearly modern day clothes. She had dark skin and a short haircut. Scully looked closely at her face.

“Mulder I think that’s Ruth.”

“That’s what I thought too.”

Scully looked at him.

“So someone has faked this photograph then? They've done something to add her to it?”

“I don’t see how. Look at the paper on the back of the frame, it’s yellowed with age. No one’s touched this photograph in years Scully.”

To Scully’s horror Mulder began ripping the ancient paper off the back, being careful not to damage the photograph inside. Once he was through he began carefully taking out the wooden backing boards, handing each piece of the frame to Scully who stacked it into a neat pile. Below the paper was a sheet of yellowed, fragile newspaper. Mulder lifted it out gingerly and looked at the date.

“November 21st, 1901,” he said, holding the sheet out so Scully could see, “97 years ago.”

“I suppose it could be a replica,” Scully suggested. Mulder rolled his eyes at her and handed her the page which she lay down neatly on the pile. He nervously pried the photo from its mount and lifted it out. Scully took the remains of the frame and moved it away so Mulder could lay the photo down. They both leaned in to look closely at it, shoulders brushing against one another.

“It certainly looks like her.”

“Here,” Mulder reached into one of the drawers and handed Scully a large magnifying glass which she held over the image of the girl. Now able to see her features, there was no doubt that she was Ruth Bradbury.

“I think we need to show this to Liz,” Mulder said.

“Why?”

“Well if one of our missing people is in here, what if the other one is too?”

“The old landlord? Mr. Williamson?”

“Yes, only we don’t know what he looks like.”

“But Liz will.”

“Precisely.”

Mulder scooped up the picture and they left the room.

 

Hearing a noise from downstairs they looked at one another and began making their way down the stairs toward the shop. When they reached the bottom step, Scully froze.

“Mulder?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you smell that?”

Mulder turned to look at her.

“Smell what?”

“Here, on this step,” she took a deep breath. “It smells like my mother’s attic. It’s an old smell, musty, like going through old papers. It’s like opening an cupboard that’s been locked for 200 years.” She took another deep breath. “And there’s something else. Chemicals, like the ones you find in a darkroom.”

Mulder moved to join her.

“I don’t smell anything.”

The sound of a door being opened reached them from above. They both looked up and saw Liz looking down at the with a grin.

“I’m still here.”

“So I see,” Mulder replied with a smile.

“Are you still going out to work Liz?” Scully asked.

“Yes. Soon,” Liz looked back at Mulder. “Oh and your theory or whatever it was, all those questions about what my new landlord looks like. He looks perfectly normal. I saw him just a few minutes ago.”

“You saw him?” Scully asked, “where?”

“He was stood there, exactly where you’re standing now. And there was nothing odd about him at all. He showed me his face.”

“He showed you his face?” Scully repeated.

“Oh don’t you start trying to be as creepy as your boyfriend! I saw the man and there was nothing wrong with him. He was as normal as you and me. Well, me at least.” Liz narrowed her eyes and looked pointedly at Mulder.

“Do you know where he is now?” Scully asked.

“No. Look I pay my rent and I keep out of trouble OK? You want him? You find him. Isn’t that what you’re paid to do in the FBI? Find things?”

Mulder shot her a tight grin.

“We need you to take a look at something.”

 

Liz sighed theatrically but indicated for them to come up to her apartment. Once she sat down, Mulder carefully handed her the old photograph.

“Take a look at this.”

Liz regarded the picture for a few seconds then looked back over at him.

“Very nice. What about it? There’s hundreds just like it in this place.”

“Look closely at it,” Mulder insisted, “can you see anyone familiar?”

“Anyone familiar?” Liz scoffed, “how could I see anyone familiar in it? It must be a thousand years old!”

“We think it’s 97 years old,” Scully corrected.

“The building at the far end of the street, the top floor, in the window,” Mulder cut in insistently. Liz leaned over to take as closer look and squinted at the image.

“I’m not sure,” she hesitated, “it could be anybody.”

“Here,” Mulder said, pulling the magnifying glass he had been using in the dark room out of his jacket pocket. Liz rolled her eyes.

“Alright,” Liz agreed after a few second, “it looks a bit like Ruth.”

“It’s her,” Mulder insisted.

“But if this picture is 97 years old then how the hell…?”

“Look closely at the rest of the photo,” Mulder cut in, “is there anyone else familiar to you?”

Ruth began scanning the rest of the image carefully with the magnifying glass. After almost a minute she paused.

“I don’t believe it. That's him.”

“Mr. Williamson?” Mulder asked excitedly, “the landlord who vanished at the same time as Ruth?”

“Well yes but… Well anyone can play tricks with a photo! Fake it!”

“They can, yes,” Scully agreed.

“Especially if they know what they’re doing,” Liz continued, “if they’re like, professionals. And he was. Mr. Williamson was. He probably did that; faked that thing.”

“Why would he do that?” Mulder asked.

“Cos it was his hobby! Photography was his hobby. I mean, don’t you have a hobby?”

Scully shot Mulder a warning look that suggested it was best he didn’t answer that question.

“Was Ruth interested in photography too?” she asked quickly.

“Oh yeah! Couldn’t take a picture to save her life though! She liked watching, seeing how it’s done. She used to spend hours in that darkroom with old Williamson. Hours and hours just watching the man work.”

“Was Ruth in the darkroom the night she disappeared?”

“I suppose she must have been. She never took a coat so I doubt she’d have gone out.” She paused. “Look I’m sorry but I really need to finish getting ready for work.”

“That’s OK,” Mulder said, standing to leave, “there’s something I want to check out downstairs.”

 

They showed themselves out and Scully closed the door to the apartment. When she turned back to Mulder, she found him looking at another framed photograph on the wall. She stepped in close beside him to see what was so interesting.

“When was the first photograph ever taken?” he asked her without taking his eyes from the picture.

“1839 I think, why?”

“A cupboard that’s been closed for 200 years.”

“What?”

“On the stairs earlier, you said that you smelled something that was like a cupboard that had been closed for 200 years.”

“This place is full of old things Mulder, it’s really not that surprising.” She watched him. “Really Mulder, what’s your theory here?”

“What if... what if when that first picture was taken, some force found its way inside?”

“Inside the photograph?”

“Yes.”

“Even if that were possible, the first photograph ever taken isn’t here Mulder.”

“I know that Scully but what I’m thinking is…” Scully’s eyebrow raised as she listened. “What if somehow every photograph is linked? And this, force, can move between them. It’s been trapped in there for all those years Scully, since 1839. And what if the experiments that Williamson was conducting, the new techniques he was working out, what if he inadvertently released it?”

“But Mulder, what would ‘it’ be exactly?”

“I’m not sure yet. But I think it exists in every photograph. The figures turned away or half seen, or not even seen at all.” He pointed up at the picture which showed an elderly couple sitting couple in their garden. “It could be hiding behind the fence, or in the street beyond, but always in there somewhere.” He looked across at Scully who was staring back at him nervously. She was about to reply when a bubble drifted between them. They both frowned and stepped across to look down the stairs. A trail of bubbles was floating out from the shop two floors below, and drifting up toward them. They looked at one another, then without saying a word they began to make their way downstairs.

Following the bubbles they each entered the shop with their weapons drawn. Scully reached out instinctively to touch one. As her finger brushed against it the bubble disintegrated, turning to dust in her palm with the sound of crumpling paper. She stared at the powder for a moment, then blew on it and watched the particles scatter through the air. The sound of children giggling reached them. Mulder and Scully separated and moved down different aisles, both following the sound. As she moved Scully reached out and touched a second bubble to see if it reacted the same as the first. It did.

Mulder reached the end of his aisle first and scanned the room. Nothing. A bubble floated past him and he reached out to catch it just as Scully had done. As soon as his finger connected with its surface, he found himself frozen in place once again.

At the end of her aisle Scully was also following the sound of laughter. She could no longer see Mulder and she felt a twist in her stomach just as she always did when they were separated on a case. She turned a corner and found herself looking at an open patio door. Outside she could see a beautiful country garden lit by evening sunshine, even though she knew the sun had set hours ago. By the door two young girls were blowing bubbles. Scully made her way quickly across the floor to the scene, trying to figure out whether it was a projection, a hallucination, or something else entirely. The girls were either unaware of her presence or completely unperturbed by it. As she approached them they continued giggling and blowing bubbles which floated past her and into the shop. Scully reached the window and froze, trying to figure out what to do next.

A noise immediately behind her caused her to spin on the spot. The girl she had seen earlier in the shop was standing there, only this time she wasn't alone. Seven children of various ages stood watching her, each one in old fashioned clothes. Their faces and clothes were sepia toned and fragile looking. The girl from the shop was the oldest and clearly the leader. She held on to a parasol at the wrong end. The sharp point was aimed at Scully’s face. The girl inched closer to Scully, bringing the weapon closer and closer. Scully was frozen.

“See saw, sacre-down, which is the way to London town?” the girl sung coldly as she slowly brought the pointed end right up toward Scully’s face. Now it was less than two inches from her right eye. The girl stared at her with malice in her eyes. Scully could hear the sound of the two girls who had been blowing bubbles move behind her. She was surrounded.

 


End file.
